


Way of the Hug

by Samuraiter



Category: Love Live! School Idol Festival (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 11:39:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8012209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samuraiter/pseuds/Samuraiter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chizuko and Hitomi come to a key understanding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Way of the Hug

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RaspberryHeaven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaspberryHeaven/gifts).



> I always wondered at the background behind the N Card girls in this game, and I hope this fanfic answers at least one of those questions.

_Shion Girls Academy_

The gymnasium. Hitomi had come there after school to pick up her gloves and punch one of the heavy bags until she got too tired to be angry. Not unusual for her, but she had different levels of anger, and she had a different remedy for each one. At Level 1, she had only to go home and put one of her shoot wrestling DVDs – she preferred Sayama Satoru, the original Tiger Mask – into the player. At Level 2, she had to pick up her PSP and play _Kenka Banchō 3_ until the battery hit zero. Level 3 required her to box, and only one person in her life had managed to push her that far.

That person had the name of _Sakamaki Chizuko_.

Hitomi grimaced, sweating as she drove her fists into the bag again and again, making it creak and sway as she pummeled it, thinking, _I don't know why she's got me so wound up. Maybe it's because she won't fight me_. That fact _did_ frustrate her. Nine times out of ten, she managed to swagger her way through confrontations, staring down her detractors, baring her teeth, letting sheer presence solve most problems before they started. If necessary, she could put up her fists, though school officials tended to frown upon that as a matter of course.

But Chizuko did not respond to intimidation. If Hitomi attempted to stare her down, she smiled. If Hitomi bared her teeth, she laughed. And if Hitomi clenched her fists, Chizuko engulfed her in a hug, and Hitomi, to the detriment of her image (in her opinion), did not try to escape. She only turned red and excused herself after Chizuko released her, leaving the other students around them looking amused ... except for Mikoto. Mikoto had no patience for either of them.

_And now this,_ Hitomi thought, pausing to pick up a white towel and mop the sweat from her forehead and neck. Now I'm in the School Idol Club. I wanted to say no. She slugged the heavy bag so hard that she imagined a little puff of sand escaping from the top. _I did. But I agreed as soon as she asked me_. She slugged the bag again, making her whole arm tingle. _I'm so stupid. How am I going to make up for this? Everybody's going to think that I'm –_ She became aware that another person had come into the gymnasium. _– who? They know better than —_

"Is this how you stay in shape, Hitomi-chan?" Nobody _dared_ use the _-chan_ if they talked to her, nobody but – "Maybe _that's_ how you do so well when we're working on dance steps?" Hitomi could almost _feel_ that smile, though she had not turned to face her. "Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me. ... Bottle of water?"

"You again," Hitomi almost growled, bowing her head and lowering her fists. "Don't you ever get tired of putting me on the spot like this?" But there was no one there but the two of them – no audience for their antics, not this time.

"So brusque," Chizuko chided her, handing her the bottle before sitting on one of the benches next to the boxing equipment, "but that's you. I thought it'd be a good idea to have a word before we get to our first performance." She paused as Hitomi took off her gloves and sat down next to her. "That's in two days, you know. We've got our dress rehearsal tomorrow, and we're doing that big practice session tonight."

"You're taking this idol thing pretty seriously," Hitomi said after taking a big swallow of water. "It's not like you. You're usually all about just hugging your problems away."

"You're not wrong," Chizuko shrugged, "but let's be realistic. Performing is a lot of work. I can't hug you into getting all the steps right or singing on key all the time. We've got to practice, practice, practice, just like we've been doing, and, even then, it's not a guarantee." She released a puff of breath. "I mean, just because I say love's the answer to everything doesn't mean that excuses me from giving my best effort." A wink. "Just like you can't punch your way to perfection. You understand that, too."

"Yeah, maybe," Hitomi reluctantly admitted, letting down her guard a little because it was only the two of them, "but you –" Chizuko looked at her intently. "– I just get really frustrated, okay? I didn't come down here because I'm training. I came down here because I'm _mad_. At you." She paused. "No. At myself. But _because_ of you. You're, like, my complete opposite. I want to hit things. You want to hug them. I don't get it. You say love's the answer to everything, and I say it's strength. That's just how it is."

"At least you're opening up to me now," Chizuko replied. "That's a start." Her smile seemed ... softer, somehow, more private. "Most people are only too happy to have my hugs. Or my chocolate. Or any of that. You and Mikoto-chan are the only exceptions." She wrinkled her nose. "Mikoto is the way she is, I guess, but I think you've got a soft spot. You're like a walnut. I've got to crack you open a bit to really understand you." She looked away for a second. "So ... if you're a little frustrated with me, Hitomi-chan, that goes both ways, you know. I just handle it a little bit differently than you do."

"Why're you putting in all this extra effort, then?" Hitomi asked, resting her hands on her lap, opening them wide to stretch her fingers. "There are so many girls who think you're the best, especially in first year. Why put so much time into some old _senpai_ who reads too much '70s school beat-'em-up manga?" Her eyes flashed. "Why talk me into joining the School Idol Club when that's the total opposite of everything I've done in my life? Is getting me to open up so important that you're willing to go to these extremes?"

"Because I want you to do this with me and make it work," Chizuko said, her face turning serious. "Because I've seen how you are when you're done fighting, when you don't think anybody's watching. You are the way you are because you _care_ about people." A smile, small and victorious. "So, really, even if we're opposite on the outside, I think we've got a lot in common deep down. I want people to feel welcome, so I hug them. You want people to be able to take care of themselves, so you test them. We really do want what's best for our school and everyone around us." Her face changed, and Hitomi was not certain what to read there. "So can you blame me for trying to do what's best for _you_ , even if I'm still figuring out exactly what that's supposed to be?"

"What are you asking me, Chizuko?" Hitomi was surprised by how husky her voice had become, and she turned red for a second before clearing her throat. "Why?"

Chizuko smiled again. "I'll tell you after the performance. For now –" She hugged Hitomi again, and Hitomi, like before, did not protest. "– I don't even mind that you're all sweaty." She giggled. "Just ... think about it, okay? We'll talk when it's all over." She then released Hitomi before standing up, bowing, and turning to leave.

"Gonna leave me in suspense, huh?" Hitomi said, looking after her. "How am I supposed to concentrate on practice if I'm stuck wondering what the question is?"

Chizuko said, over her shoulder, "I think you already know. So, instead of looking at the question, maybe you should start thinking about what your answer is going to be?"

Shiga Hitomi sat on the bench in the gymnasium for a long time after Chizuko left, squinting down at the space on the floor between her feet, trying to put things together, not noticing as the shadows on the floor lengthened into the afternoon.

**END**.


End file.
